


Raising A Rat

by Junkrat-Junkie (JunkratJunkie)



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Obligitory first meeting fic, Rated for violence in later chapters, This is supposed to be fluff
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-13
Updated: 2016-09-25
Packaged: 2018-07-23 18:02:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,982
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7474308
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JunkratJunkie/pseuds/Junkrat-Junkie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Roadhog is sent out to find and capture a person with a valuable secret, but how will he react when he finds out that the person he's after is a six year old kid?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Rooting Out The Rat

One year after the Crisis, after the formation of the ALF, after everything went to complete and utter shit; that was all it took for Mako to be buried deep down inside of Roadhog. He became a monster, his actions finally giving others a legitimate reason to avoid him, rather than just his looks or his size. Not that those were all that different.

He fit into his persona easily, fashioning himself a mask to tie everything together. That, the tattoos, and the chopper all made it clear to everyone else that he was a one man apocalypse. Everyone knew that he wasn't someone you wanted to fuck with.

It didn't take long for him to become hired as an enforcer after it all fell apart. He worked a few jobs, mostly shaking down poor fucks that probably didn't deserve it. He couldn't judge, only deliver judgement. After the first few times, it got easier. Hurting folks got easier. Killing got easier. Then it became fun. Work turned to pleasure, and he could feel Mako dying more each day. The year flew by and Roadhog was sure there wasn't any part of Mako that was left. He needed it to be this way, so he could survive. Nice guys like Mako didn’t survive.

Manhunts were not uncommon. For this job, someone had something valuable, and they needed to be brought in for an interrogation. There wasn't a lot of information on what that something actually was, but it wasn't any of Roadhog’s business. He got a tip as to where the guy was; holed up in an old shack several miles outside of Junktown, real isolated and unassuming. If he brought the man back with him, there was a huge reward in it for him.

He took off early in the morning, before the sun came up. The beast of a motorcycle roared to life and sped off into the wastes, kicking up a cloud of dirt in his wake. If he woke anyone in town, he didn’t care. 

He spotted the shack before light was creeping over the horizon. Pulling on the brake hard, Roadhog skidded his chopper to a halt several yards away. Through the dark lenses on his mask he could spot several mounds of upturned earth scattered around the small building. He also noted some remains a few feet from a crater, telling him that he wasn't the first one here to try and get this guy. 

Stepping off the bike, Roadhog started navigating his way around the mines. From inside he could hear someone clamoring, like they were trying to pack up in a rush. Moving a bit faster, he made it to the door and kicked it in before squeezing inside. 

The inside of the shack was dusty and dirty, not really meant for living in, even before the world went to hell. There was the sound of another person breathing in there, giving themselves away. In a swift movement, he reached under an old table and grabbed for the first thing that felt like flesh or hair.

He was greeted with the squeal of a child. 

Roadhog pulled his arm out and dangling from his grasp was a young kid, probably no older than four or five. The sight gave him pause.

Feeling his hesitation, the child grabbed onto Roadhog’s wrist to pull themselves up enough to bite his thumb. In a jerk reaction, he threw the kid against a wall. They landed in a heap, sobbing as they curled in on themselves. 

Roadhog didn't move, just staring at the sad sight. Mako would never have hurt a child, but was Roadhog willing to?

He decided that he didn't have to hurt the kid. He kept thinking of the kid as a ‘them’ because under all the dirt and unwash it was almost impossible to tell any difference in gender.

Opening a pack in his vest, Roadhog pulled out an old candy bar. They were pretty rare these days, but the kid seemed to recognize the sound of food and started to look for the source. Kneeling down, the he extended the treat out to the kid.

Wiping the tears away, the kid slowly started to shift and move. They looked untrusting, but desperate for food. Hesitantly, they reached for the candy, mouth slightly open to show they were missing a few teeth, save for the top and bottom front ones. Roadhog couldn't help think of a small rat.

Finally about to grasp at the candy bar, the little rat snatched it away and retreated to the far side of the shack. They tore into it and started shoving pieces into their mouth hungrily. Even if they were dirty, the kid licked up the chocolate from their fingers before looking back at the person who had provided it.

“Hello,” Roadhog rumbled out after a moment. “Are you the one that people have been looking for?”

The sun finally had come up and shafts of light started to leak through the gaps in the walls. He could see how dirty this kid really was, even in the little light. He also noticed burning orange eyes and yellow hair.

The kid nodded after a moment, “They're after me treasure. I wanted ta sell it, but people just tried to kill me for it. That's why I put out the mines.”

Roadhog didn't say anything for a while. He was no better, planning on kidnapping and turning this kid over to people he knew were greedy and ruthless.

Seeing as the goliath wasn't aiming to hurt them, the kid moved a bit closer. “Oi, why do ya wear a piggy mask? Are ya like a superhero? I didn’ think heroes hurt kids, but I did bite ya first, so I guess it was me own fault.”

Roadhog had a choice to make, and he knew what the right one would be. Instead of taking this kid to his employers, he should just snap their fragile neck and say the dingos got there first. It would be kinder. No child should live in a world like this. Or he could say that he couldn't find them, probably get fired, and risk the chance of someone else grabbing the kid up anyway.

As if able to read his thoughts, the kid asked, “Are ya going ta take me ta those bad men?”

Then Roadhog made the biggest mistake he'd made in a long time, and asked, “What's your name?” He should have kept his big mouth shut.

“I'm Jamie Fawkes.”

Roadhog made his choice then. Reaching out, he grabbed the kid by the back of their shirt. Ignoring the loud protests, he turned to walk out with them tucked under his arm. “Jamie… I'm gonna call you Rat. Anyone else asks, that's what your name is. Got it? And you don't know anything about any treasure.”

Jamie only struggled for a short time before they got tired out, just limply hanging. Out in the sunlight, Roadhog could really see how dirty the kid was. Dirt caked their small fingers and cheeks and their clothes would likely never turn out to be the same color they were before. Probably needed to be replaced too.

Setting the kid down on the seat of the bike, Roadhog reached into one of the saddlebags and took out an old metal canteen. Jamie watched curiously as he unscrewed the cap and pushed his mask up to take a swig before offering it. The kid frowned and leaned away from it. “What is it?”

“Water.”

Jamie let out a shriek and jumped off the bike to hide on the other side, peeking over the top to glare at the canteen. “Water is poison! I'm not gonna drink it!”

Letting out a low growl, Roadhog recapped the canteen and stowed it away. Hydrophobia wasn't terribly uncommon nowadays. It looked like he'd have to figure out another solution to keep the kid hydrated. Could probably trick them into drinking something without telling them it's made of water. For now he settled for picking out a few nuts from the same bag and handing them over for a snack. “Where did you get the mines?”

Greedy little fingers snatched the nuts away, as if worried they'd be taken back. Without even looking up Jamie said, “Made ‘em. Found a book and memorized it. Shed had a bunch’a stuff inside, so I made a few.”

Roadhog gave a grunt of approval. So the kid could read. Probably taught by their parents. Parents… He hadn't thought that Jamie might still have parents somewhere. It seemed unlikely, since they weren't screaming their head off about a ‘ma and pa’. Fuck, they might have even tried to hurt the kid too, to get their hands on this secret. Or maybe he was overthinking things and should knock it off. “Can you get them back out?”

Having finished off the nuts quickly, Jamie looked back up at him. “Dunno how. Don’ wanna get meself blown up too. Like that sad fucker.” They looked over at the remains of the body, not showing any emotion but hate.

A big meaty hand swatted Jamie's head, earning Roadhog another shriek. “Watch your mouth!” He wasn't even thinking before he bellowed the scolding.

Jamie ducked away from the giant man, holding their head. “That hurt, ya drongo!”

Roadhog heaved a sigh and reached back into his bag. He shouldn't have done that, but he wasn't about to say so. Jamie was bound to learn even worse words very quickly. Taking out more of the nuts, Jamie seemed to forget about being smacked and took to snacking happily in a heartbeat.

This was going to be a very long day...


	2. Feeding A Rat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Rat gets a meal.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not shelving this forever, I promise. To prove it, here's a tiny chapter that I've been stewing on for too long.

Finding a safe house wasn't the hard part. Roadhog had a place where he could get away from everyone and everything when he needed to. It was too far to walk to from Junkertown, so rarely would anyone come close to the building. The ground floor was also picked clean, so it may have been used as a temporary shelter from time to time by the occasional stray junker. So long as no one knew about the secret hatch, no one would be hunted for stealing.

No, the hard part was getting the kid there.

The little brat was squirmy, even as the bike bounced along the dirt and rocks. It forced the large man to keep one hand around the kid and drive more slowly. More than once, he wondered if he should just break the kid’s neck and keep going. 

But he wouldn't.

They were halfway there, and Rat started to complain. “It’s too hot out! I'm hungry!” 

Roadhog just ignored them. It wouldn’t last long before they got tired again and just resolved to pouting. By the time they reached the shack, the sun was out in full force and bearing down on them, not holding anything back. No trees or clouds to break the direct rays from cooking them up. Luckily, the shelter had a roof, but the metal walls meant that it would also be hot inside. The building was not designed to have insulation, at least on the surface.

Roadhog stepped off the bike and let Rat down, too. He moved to open a side of the wall to walk his bike inside.

Meanwhile, little Rat was running around the structure, looking at the metal sheets that made up the walls. it wasn't long before they moved inside. They then started to look through boxes and cans for anything of value. Only thing to turn up were a couple of screws that were quickly stored away in a worn pocket. The little face turned to Roadhog expectantly, waiting for him to do or say something else as he positioned the sheet of metal back in place.

How did this kid go from limp and tired, to running around and scavenging so fast? Maybe they were faking the exhaustion. Troublesome, that’s what it really was.

Feeling the eyes on his back, Roadhog turned to look to the kid, but said nothing. He just moved to a large metal drum that was filled to the top with coarse sand. Rat looked too and started to dig through it a little, but soon got bored since there was obviously nothing of value within reach. Hog’s huge hands grasped the sides and he tilted it before rolling it to the side a couple feet. There was a large metal plate under where the drum had been.

Rat gasped when they saw it and rushed over to try to lift it up. It didn’t budge and their tiny fingers slipped. Looking back at him with a new pout, Rat patted Roadhog's arm and pointed at the hatch. “Well? You’re the muscle. Gonna open it?” Annoying.

Not wanting to waste his breath, Roadhog just kneeled down and opened it up easily. He glanced at Rat and nodded his head for them to climb inside.

One excited shriek later, and the kid was climbing down the old metal ladder.

The bunker was very old and very fortified. Roadhog guessed that some hermit made it long before the Crisis, too afraid of the outside world to trust anyone. When he found it, the owner was dead and rotted away, but some parts of the structure still worked. In fact, it was a bit of a mystery as to how the guy had died. Food was still good, water hadn't run out yet, air was still getting in just fine.

Maybe it was just that the hermit couldn't take the loneliness anymore. It was a feeling that Roadhog didn't understand. For him, loneliness was fine.

Dim safety lights were all they had for vision at first, but that didn't stop Rat from exploring. 

Little fingers touched at anything they could reach. They test boxes that are locked up too tight to open, cans that are sealed shut. They scout for places to hide, either themselves or things that they claimed as their own. It is only when Rat starts to climb up a shelf of canned food that Roadhog intervenes and grabs the kid up again.

They squirm in his grasp again, ever the perpetual motion machine. Roadhog walks to a table and flicks on a lighter, and suddenly Rat stops moving. 

The giant enforcer eyes the kid before lighting an oil lamp, illuminating the room at last. Staring at the flame, Rat is hypnotized, completely transfixed by the small flickering spirit behind the glass. 

Seeing the potential danger, Roadhog moves the lamp higher out of reach and pockets the lighter in his vest. Better safe than have the bunker go up in flames from the inside. He steps away and scans the shelves of cans.

“Hungry?”

The mention of food got the kid's attention. They rushed over to Roadhog and looked up at him, jumping from leg to leg excitedly. “Yeah yeah yeah!”

He snorted, amused despite himself, and reached for a can of beans on a shelf. He looked the label over before deciding that it would do for a meal. It was a bit of a surprise when Rat jumped up and grabbed a hold of him and started to climb him like a very thick tree. Those dirty, little creeping fingers were digging into his skin, which Roadhog did not appreciate one bit. Really was like a little rat.

After plucking the kid off, Roadhog went to a drawer to fish out a can opener. He rummaged around a bit before realizing that the needed tool was missing. He wouldn't have misplaced it, always being sure to leave everything as he'd found it. Sighing, he turned and looked at Rat and held out his hand expectantly. 

Rat didn't move at first, hands behind their back, looking away from the accusatory stare. The standoff didn't last long before Rat dug the opener from their pocket. “Sorry,” they mumbled and dropped it into Roadhog's waiting hand.

He was honestly, silently impressed. Didn't even hear the kid open the drawer. 

“Come here.” He must have said it too roughly, because Rat was stepping away hesitantly. “You're not in trouble. Gonna show you how.”

Roadhog moved to the low coffee table and set the can down with a clank. Rat slowly walked over and sat down across from him, eyes darting between the can, Roadhog, and the sharp can opener in his grasp. Making sure that Rat would pay attention, he slowly started to work the opener around the rim of the can and finally used the tip to pry it open. 

Rat's eyes were wide as he watched the can spin with the tool, reaching for both when it was finally open.

Before those tiny fingers could snatch the food away, Roadhog handed them the opener and an unopened can. He didn't even get a word out before Rat was trying to open the can like they'd been shown. That was a good sign, at least. Brat was good at learning with observation. Might be too smart…

It took a little more time, but Rat got the can open and grinned wide, showing off the gaps from missing baby teeth. Roadhog nodded and traded a spoon for the opener, which Rat readily accepted.

Roadhog sat there for a moment, just watching the tiny kid eat as if not having had a decent meal in over a year. Which was likely the case. 

It was probably record timing before he heard the metal spoon scraping against the bottom of the can. After deciding that there was nothing left if their meal, Rat stood up again and went back to exploring.

Shaking his head and sighing, Roadhog picked up the abandoned spoon and started eating his own meal. No point in using another and wasting time, energy, and water to wash two spoons.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you have any suggestions for what you'd like to see, it may help with pumping out more, longer chapters. You can shoot me a message here in a comment, or hit me up on tumblr, junkrat-junkie.tumblr.com/
> 
> Promise I won't bite.


End file.
